


Chasing Storms Year 2: Girl Chasers

by knittersrevolt, PopsAfterDark (knittersrevolt)



Series: Chasing Storms [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cheryl Blossom & Betty Cooper Friendship, Established Cheryl Blossom/Toni Topaz, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Jughead Jones is So Done, Mechanic Betty Cooper, Minor Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Photographer Jughead Jones, Rival Sex, Road Trips, Storm Chasing, Writer Jughead Jones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:21:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23135341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittersrevolt/pseuds/knittersrevolt, https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittersrevolt/pseuds/PopsAfterDark
Summary: The sky is turning green. The winds are whipping up. Once again the Serpents ride in search of tornados to catch. Betty has joined Cheryl and Toni on the Girl Chasers team. Will she find her place there, or will she keep chasing after Jughead?Sequel to Chasing Storms.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Series: Chasing Storms [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1357093
Comments: 62
Kudos: 155





	1. Back on the Road

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the irreplaceable Bugggghead

The glittering moments in the dying sunlight as the falling debris from the tornado caught the pinks and oranges of the sunset—this was what Betty had so desperately missed all winter. She was in charge of manning the camera as Toni and Cheryl danced together in front of the modest beast twirling its way across a desolate field. Some of their joy and laughter was faked, but every part of their happiness was achingly real. Betty was no photographer, but it didn’t really matter. Toni set everything up, Betty was just in charge of pushing one button that started the auto-sequence.

She wiped humid sweat from her brow with her red handkerchief. Texas springs were brutal, but there was nowhere else on Earth she’d rather be. It was the fourth storm they’d caught up to in the week and a half since they’d started their chasing season. Behind the giggling duo, the twister roped out into unimpressive white wisps. 

The eight month long off-season had been pure torture. She’d gotten a job editing legal briefs and paperwork at a law firm. It had slowly sucked her soul from her body as thick snow fell on top of the tall New York skyline. She, of course, couldn’t afford to live in the city, so her commute was over two hours of her day, every day. She filled the solemn train rides with every audio book on weather she could find. 

Bright sparks of hope and longing pierced through the cold every week or so as Toni kept her updated on what their plan was for spring. F.P. also kept her on the chain emails he sent out about updates to the crew and equipment. The Serpents had won a few grants that would keep them afloat as long as they provided good data. Ethel was promoted to Head Meteorologist on the team after completing her Master’s over the dark, dreary months. Sometimes Betty liked to pretend she was happy for Ethel. Most of the time she did her best not to think about the other members of F.P.’s team at all.

“I think that’s a wrap, ladies!” Betty beckoned them over to look at the shots. Some of them were off center, but that hardly mattered. With only a little editing needed, most of the photos were gorgeous, and certainly sellable. They exchanged some high fives and hugs before Betty and Toni started to load out as Cheryl touched up her make-up and inspected the car.

“Betts,” Cheryl called with an annoyed tone, “did you get a chance to look at that noise I was talking about earlier? Or this dent? I’ve told you a hundred times our clients don’t just want to see us, they want to see us being fabulous. This car? That’s part of what makes us fabulous.”

Betty hoped Toni would step in to squash the argument before it could ramp up, but she was already in the convertible with the top up. It was common knowledge that she was the only one who could talk sense into Cheryl.

“And as I’ve told you a thousand times, being a mechanic means I have the knowledge on how to look at and repair this car. What I don’t have is the garage full of tools and parts it will take to make it better. I am not MacGyver, and even if I was, I could only patch the issue. Some mechanic shops will rent out space for me to work, but most won’t. We have to go to the Oklahoma home base for me to diagnose and fix the car. If you’re willing to part with some money, you can have someone with a garage diagnose it out here and I can order parts to be shipped there.”

Cheryl seethed. Sometimes Betty felt like she could see the red halo of her barely suppressed rage. “I hired you to be our mechanic. I’m not going to pay someone else to also touch my precious baby. What the fuck is the point of having you here if you can’t do anything?!”

Betty took deep, calming breaths as Cheryl slammed into the car. She loved the freedom of working with the Girl Chasers. It was one team in one car so they made quick decisions and moved even faster. They caught storms way more often than the Serpents ever had. Sometimes she just had to stop and count her blessings to keep herself from begging F.P. to let her come back. She’d probably end up doing something she’d regret, like offering to ride in the meteorologist van with Ethel anyway.

Toni had to step out to let Betty climb awkwardly into the back seat of the two-door vehicle because the top was up. Cheryl loved the convertible—Betty understood that, she really,  _ really _ did—but the woman would not listen to reason where it was concerned. She not so accidentally kicked Cheryl’s seat as she got situated. In retaliation Cheryl quickly slid her chair back as far as possible to smack Betty’s shin.

Toni rolled her eyes. “Betty, Cheryl is sorry that she yelled at you for something you have no control over—”

“Am I though?”

“—and Cheryl, Betty is sorry that you’re a control freak she has to put up with, but she’ll try her hardest to accommodate you.”

“Will I though?” Betty bit back at Cheryl.

Through the rearview mirror, their eyes locked in mutual disdain. They honestly liked each other most of the time, just not when it came to talking about cars.  _ That  _ was kind of an issue for the team’s mechanic.

Toni, ever their moderator, huffed a sigh. “Seriously, you two? We left the Serpents to avoid all of this unnecessary drama. You know what? I’m calling a Space Night!”

Cheryl turned a bright smile to her girlfriend. “Yes! That is exactly what we need.”

“Oh God, what’s a Space Night?” Betty pictured something involving rocket ships or darkly lit bowling alleys as Cheryl peeled off down the dirt road. Toni unbuckled before turning completely around to face Betty. It wasn’t an uncommon move, but Betty cringed every time she did it. Safety statistics and death rates flashed in her mind.

“When we first started Girl Chasers, we thought being together all the time was going to be a dream. We got to go where we wanted, do what we wanted—”

“Do each other when we wanted,” Cheryl added with a wicked grin.

“—but pretty soon we realized that spending every second together is kind of miserable. Cheryl likes to go to bright peppy dance clubs when she’s had a tough day and—”

“And my TT likes dark dirty dive bars filled with human rejects and hobos.”

Toni smirked. “It took us nearly a year to realize that when I made her go to bars with me, she hated it, and when I went to clubs with her, I hated it. We were fighting and couldn’t figure out why.”

“So we invented Space Nights! We don’t need to be together all day every day to know we love each other. Sometimes, we need to have our own adventures and then come back together with stories the other person hasn’t heard a thousand times. I’ll get dressed in a stunning skin tight red dress and dance the night away while my gorgeous girl dons her leathers and deals with inhuman smells.”

“Not all dive bars smell like that, Cheryl,” Toni chastised her fondly.

“Well more than one or two have. While we go off on our adventures, you can go off and do… whatever it is that you want to do.”

“Or she can come with me,” Toni offered. “There’s a bar less than twenty miles from here that’s practically family. What do you say? Up for some warm beer and darts?”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Betty’s high blonde ponytail and ‘can do’ attitude did not blend in very well with the hardened biker club. The very essence of her seemed to push back against the cloud of stale smoke and Budweiser that fogged the air like a lighthouse calling the ships to port. Only, the attention she was bringing in didn’t seem very friendly. In the first few minutes, she actually wondered if she wouldn’t have been better off dealing with Cheryl’s death glares all night. At least Betty knew how to act in a dance club. Even her outfit, carefully chosen to be mostly devoid of color, stood out in its cleanliness and lack of wear.

Toni, on the other hand, was a big fish in a small pond at the bar. She exchanged dozens of acknowledging head tilts and a few warm smiles and handshakes. She moved through the space with the presence of a long lost commander returning to her troops—a legend among their ranks. Betty, however, stood awkwardly behind and to the side as the patrons commented on seeing her on Instagram or following the live stream they occasionally set up on chases.

“Joaquin!” Toni pulled the bartender across the counter into a hug.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Antoinette. You’re still alive? I’m shocked.” The man’s slicked back, dark hair and crisp white shirt gave him the look of someone who just stepped out of a 1950’s musical. He was incredibly handsome, but as his eyes strayed to a man bending over the pool table, Betty decided she probably wasn’t his type. 

One night stands weren’t really Betty’s area of expertise anyway, not that it stopped her from thinking about it. Jughead still held the spot of the last man she’d been with. Perhaps a seedy bar was the perfect place to pick up a replacement, but looking around at her choices, she doubted it.

“Betty, this is my brother by another mother, Joaquin.”

“Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand for a shake. He looked at it with an amused grin before taking it.

“Right. The infamous hashtag MechanicBetty. Fangs would not shut up about how cool it was to have someone handy on the road last year. Is it true Jughead fired you for running the Ghoulies off the road into a ditch?”

“What?”

An older woman with leathery tanned skin hanging limply off her bare arms said, “I heard she stole a gun from ‘em first.”

“What?! No I-”

“Don’t harass the poor girl!” Toni took Betty’s shoulders into her hands. “Put whatever drinks she wants onto my tab. She could use a break after a tough day and we’re taking an Uber back to the motel.”

Joaquin chuckled. “Alright, alright. What would you like, Princess?”

“Bring me a cliche girly drink. And just keep ‘em coming until you feel like you should cut me off. Where are the darts? I was made promises.”

A few hours later, Betty was sloshed. She was stumbly, giggly, downright drunk, and loving every second of it. Every game of darts had ended in her miserable defeat, but that was fine because every time she lost, someone offered to pay for her next drink. Her obvious inebriation had warmed the crowd to her considerably.

“MY TURN!” she yelled loudly, as if she was the only one keeping track of the rounds. On wobbly legs, she took her aim and launched the dart. “HOLY SHIT! I HIT TRIPLE ON 20!”

The crowd cheered loudly along with her. One of her opponents, a burly man with longer shinier hair than she could hope to have said, “You know you’re still losing, right?”

“Don’t care! SHOTS!”

As the whiskey was still burning its way down her throat, Toni slung her arm over Betty’s shoulders. “Yeah, sorry gentlemen, but I think my friend here needs to call it a night.”

A chorus of boos followed them into the night. Betty’s head swam in the cool air. It still held the tang of humidity, but it was calm and comfortable the way it hadn’t been during the day. Toni pulled up the Uber app on her iPhone.

“Toni, Tone, Antoinette, why are you so much better than the Serpents?”

She didn’t look up from her cell, but the smirk said she heard Betty’s question. “Better at what, Drunky McDrunkerton?”

“Storms. I’ve seen soooooo many storms with you guys. Good ones. And the pictures! So many more.”

“Uber will be here in ten.” She put her phone away and turned to judge Betty’s sobriety. Betty tried to be cool about it. Instead, she stumbled over and nearly twisted her ankle before righting herself. 

“Oh for heavens—just sit down.”

Betty did as she was told. “I’m seated. Please explain.”

“Would you believe me if I said it’s woman’s intuition?”

“No. That’s not scientific and it’s dumb.”

“Call it what you want, but it’s the truth. Cheryl and I look at the radar for the day, then we go with our gut. We have to be in full agreement before we go off. The boys change mid-day and they stare at the radar way too much. We go where the wind takes us.”

“That’s stupid. But I still love you, and thanks for bringing me along.” Betty leaned her head against Toni’s leg.

“No problem. I like some change every now and then.”

“Your girlfriend is kind of a dick though.”

“Everyone’s a dick sometimes, and she’s my dick. Stop giggling, that wasn’t a sex joke. Yeah, Cheryl can be abrasive, but she’s got a big, loyal heart. Now, try to get some sleep. I’m going to make you drink so much water when we get back you’ll be up at dawn just because you have to pee.”

Betty dozed off hugging Toni’s shin before the Uber arrived. 


	2. Not a Chase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jughead will make his appearance next chapter, I swear.

At some point, Betty was going to learn that hangovers were decidedly worse when on a road trip, and drinking was a terrible idea. Unfortunately for her, the next morning was a lesson she was still suffering through. Betty couldn’t stop glaring at the couple giggling with each other over their vegan breakfasts. What she wanted was some fatty, greasy meat with bread to soak up the acid in her stomach. When she’d asked the waitress what she recommended, the woman answered something about vitamin shots in a smoothie. The breakfast burrito she’d actually gotten was delicious, but wasn’t enough to help the churning.

After the pair was done sharing a series of nauseatingly sweet kisses, Toni pulled her laptop out and turned it over to Betty.

“Last night we were talking and we decided that it’s about time that you chose the storm system for the day. Here’s the radar. Today is your day.”

She didn’t want it to be her day. What she wanted was to sit shotgun with the top up so she could sleep but still roll the window down if she wanted. 

The radar showed some promise for the day. Across the images, patches of orange and red drove a line up the midwest corridor. None of them would even begin to develop into supercells until the afternoon, if they did at all. Nothing about it was remotely concrete when they were probably eight hours out from twisters.

“This is impossible! I might as well throw a dart between Kansas and Oklahoma. You can’t be serious about picking where we go off of this.”

Cheryl raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Oh, we are. We’re not complete morons, we’ll check the radar again later, but our first moves are all up to you.” 

“Fine. Oklahoma,” Betty said reluctantly.

It was Toni’s turn to shoot Betty an annoyed look. “I get it, you don’t feel good, but you have to give us more than that.”

Betty slouched into the comfort of her sweater. “Central Oklahoma. Norman, maybe.”

“Aww, does someone miss her old road buddies?” Cheryl teased. “I thought you wouldn’t want to be caught dead around there after Beanie boy fired you.”

Betty glared. “Seriously? You force me to choose some place off of bad information and then make fun of me for it?”

“Not at all. It’s actually what I would have suggested myself.”

Somehow, everything Cheryl said, even things that may have been compliments, sounded snooty and underhanded. Or maybe that was the headache talking. Either way, the end result was Betty feeling like one night off hadn’t been enough time spent apart. 

“Great. Does that mean we can go now? I have a bad feeling that if we stay much longer the waitress is going to try to give me more wheatgrass smoothie options.” She shuddered at the thought. “Can we go someplace with actual milkshakes tonight?”

“I know just the place,” a voice called from behind her.

“Ronnie?!” Betty bolted out of her seat to give Veronica a tight squeeze. It was the hug of two people in the best kind of long distance friendship finally reunited. They’d both had murderous father drama in February and no one to vent to but each other over the phone. They also texted about Veronica’s expansion of Pop’s into other states and all of the pains that came along with that. They Facetimed about dresses that miraculously came with pockets and cost under one hundred dollars. They Snapchatted about what pets they wanted to own someday. They had spent the last year becoming cross country sisters.

“I am so happy to see you! What are you doing here? Are we close to your new Texas Pop’s?  _ Please _ , tell me you brought fries.”

Veronica openly laughed at her pleas. She was, of course, impeccably made up and wearing an outfit that looked like it cost enough to pay off half of Betty’s student loans. 

“Sorry, I don’t come bearing any gifts other than moi. Cheryl told me you might be coming through Texas and we happened to spot each other at the club last night. After a lot of wringing my hands, she convinced me that I owe myself a vacation. I have been working my ass off to open all of these stores and I’ve been allowing some franchising. This way, I figure I can take a ladies road trip with my best gal pals and go make sure some of my other restaurants are keeping up my famously high standards.”

“You’re coming with us? You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. Being third wheel to the lesbians is exhausting.”

“Hey!” Toni pulled them apart so she could slip in for a hug. “Bi erasure is not cool.”

“Oh, I didn’t know, sorry. Wait, you’ve dated guys?” Betty tried to picture it but her brain failed to produce an image.

“A few. The last one was Jughead a few years ago and that was for about one very ill-intentioned week when we were both getting over breakups.”

“Jughead  _ Jones _ ?!” They all turned to look at Betty. “Yeah, I knew how stupid it was to say as it was coming out. I just…what? Really?”

They all slid back into their chairs as Veronica stole one from an adjacent table.

“Unfortunately, yes, really. We only kissed, except for one night when we got to third. It was…not good.”

Betty had to bite her tongue before she spilled that his skills had definitely improved since then. If anyone noticed her uncomfortable shifting, they didn’t mention it. 

Veronica smirked. “Naughty naughty, Toni. Now, what’s good here?”

“Nothing,” Betty answered as Cheryl offered actual menu items.

“And why are you so cranky this morning?” Veronica asked after thanking the waitress for bringing her coffee.

“Dive bars, darts, and drinks. Please tell me you have some amazing music. Oklahoma is only a short drive when you start at the top of Texas, and we’re in the middle.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was odd how freeing it was to have an extra person in the car. It was more cramped, but Betty felt like she could let her personality out. Veronica brought an ease to the trip they had been sorely lacking. She also brought a whip-quick wit that could keep Cheryl in her place. The hours seemed to melt by despite the sauna-esque humidity leaking in through the open windows. They were all down to tank tops by the time they were catching up with the clouds.

“...so there I am, Jonas brothers everywhere, and I am on the verge of a food poisoning induced epic disaster—Hey, isn’t that the type of cloud we’re supposed to be looking for?”

It was. The immense structure boasted a nearly flat bottom that rounded in the middle as it rose toward the heavens up to its peak. They called them anvil clouds, but that wasn’t what they were at all. They were cylinders, dozens of miles wide. The entire thing was a roiling mass of unstable air wrenching against itself as it churned. The very thought of its enormity made Betty’s heart race. 

It was getting to be evening, dusk was less than an hour away as they crept into the edges of Shawnee. They’d definitely chosen the right weather system to track, but they weren’t the only ones. 

All of the women let out groans as the Ghoulies sped past them in their caravan of SUVs led by Malachai in a brand new Tesla.

“Awesome,” Cheryl muttered sarcastically. “Look! They just went through another stop sign! Going sixty miles per freakin’ hour on a dirt road! That asshole is going to kill more people and once again, we’re the ones who are going to get the bad rep for it!”

With a long suffering sigh, Cheryl started to slow the car and pull off into a gas station. Betty nearly catapulted herself into the front seat using the headrests as leverage.

  
“Why are we stopping? I thought we were all fueled up? They’re going to beat us! We won’t get the best position. What about the photos?”

It was right there. She could see the rotation, even from their spot nearly five miles from the body of the storm. From the depths of the heavy dark rain cloud, a white-gray shelf was descending: the wall cloud. As soon as she spotted it, the clouds began to dump torrents of water, shielding the entire area from view. 

Toni turned and gave Betty a look that was almost pitying. “We’re not like the Serpents, Betty. Look at that area. It’s completely rain wrapped. There will be gold ball-sized hail any minute and we don’t have the correct protection for that. Face it, our day is over. Let’s just check into a motel and call it a night. We’ve already had a great spring, we can afford to have a lady’s night, especially if we don’t risk needing a new windshield-or worse, losing our lives in the soft top.”

“So that’s it?” Betty looked off to the horizon. The line of Ghoulie cars disappeared into the downpour. If she was able, she’d transport herself into their place just to be part of the chase again. The storm was forming over nothing but empty fields. Past the rain, any funnel would be easy to see, even easier to catch.

A pit settled into her stomach. It was the familiar feeling she got when a police officer told her they were taking over an investigation. Defeat. The knowledge that someone else was picking up where she left off. It was gut wrenching. 

“It’s just one night,” Cheryl huffed. “You’re the most workaholic storm chaser I’ve ever met. What are you afraid you’re going to miss?”

Betty didn’t have an answer, but the fear was all too real.

The pit was even worse when she was watching the local ten o’clock news and saw the footage the Ghoulies had collected. The twister was a beautiful solid stovepipe that touched down for over ten minutes. Property damage had been minimal since there were no houses in the way, just one lone barn that had flown apart in a burst of red. The visuals were stunning.

The longing to have seen it live tore at her. Maybe it was going to be a long spring after all.


	3. Homecoming

Norman, Oklahoma stretched out before them. Butterflies began swirling in Betty’s stomach as they passed the welcome sign. The heart of the city was filled with old brick buildings standing tall through the test of time, looking like they belonged in the old west. It was still morning and the Girl Chasers were headed to the Serpents’ garage for the first real team meeting. At least they’d stopped at a true diner for breakfast, so she’d gotten bacon for the first time in ages. Her ponytail was on high and tight, her version of armor, before seeing the Jones men for the first time since the day they’d lost so much.

“I can’t believe we have to do this,” Cheryl whined into the mirror on the visor while refreshing her lipstick. “I mean, why do we have to go to this team meeting? We’re killing it.”

“Oh no no!” Betty cut off what was sure to be a rant. “There is no weather anywhere on the radar and we’re less than half an hour from the garage. If I have to listen to you complain about the noise that this car makes for another month until it dies just because you didn’t want to go to a meeting there will be hell to pay.”

It wasn’t like she was all too eager herself having to see her ex just to fix a car. Was he even an ex? There had been no discussion of feelings, no true dates. In fact, outside of one passionate kiss and the night in the motel, she had no concrete proof Jughead even liked her. Maybe the details didn’t even matter. What mattered was that he felt like an ex to her. Not even _an_ ex, he felt like _the_ ex. The one who got away, or the one who had the most potential to be the romance of a lifetime.

Every relationship hit a point, a moment where she realized it took more energy to be around her boyfriend than she could handle. Afterwards, an awkwardness always came from the realization she’d rather be alone than have to share her free time. Yet somehow, she’d spent months locked in a car with the Jones men and then Jughead and Archie without ever getting close to that point. There had been nothing but amazing discussions and comfortable silences. 

How often did people find someone who shared their interests so completely? Someone they didn’t just have great conversation with, but also intense sexual chemistry? Wasn’t that what relationships for the ages were built on? Apparently not. Or maybe it had been one sided. 

That last night replayed in her head over and over. Every last detail, every possible mistake, or misinterpretation kept her up late many nights. Falling into bed with him when the adrenaline was racing through their veins hadn’t been her best idea, but she could have sworn he’d had feelings for her, too. 

There were two distinct possibilities: either he never felt anything for her beyond sexual attraction that he’d purged from his system, or he’d been so freaked out by the death and destruction of one bad day that he’d cut her out of his life completely. Both options were shitty enough for her to vow, several times a day, that she’d never allow herself to become infatuated with him again.

Of course, there was a distinct possibility that the glimpse of messy black hair under a beanie could completely undo all of her convictions. She wasn’t eager to find out.

“Oh My God! Fine, but my baby better purr by the time we leave.”

“It’s a deal.”

The garage was bustling with life as they pulled up. Fangs and Sweet Pea stopped shoving each other around long enough to wave before harassing each other again. Two people who Betty didn’t recognize had a map spread wide across the hood of a van and Ethel stood beside them laughing. Betty could make out Archie’s shock of red hair, but couldn’t spot the others.

As the girls piled out of the car, Betty took a few deep breaths before climbing out. The boys moved to pull Toni into a hug, leaving the garage open enough for her to see F.P., Fred, and Jughead in a huddle.

In the off season months in NYC, Betty had felt like she’d never arrived home. That feeling of comfort and warmth had been left behind on the road. The sight before her brought all those feelings of contentment back. Everything around her fell away.

Betty rushed forward. She blew right past the Jones and Andrews boys, straight to what she’d missed the most. 

Betty wrapped her arms around the S.I.V. She had no idea that what she’d been missing was the Serpent Intercept Vehicle until she could smell its dent-proof vinyl coating once again. “Oh baby, I’ve missed you so much.”

Behind her, Fangs was dying of laughter. Sweet Pea actually fell to the ground trying to catch his breath.

“Did you see Jughead’s face?” Fangs choked out between laughs. “He held his arms out and everything!” The boys cracked up again.

“Well, how was I supposed to know she was going to hug the freaking car?!”

She could not have cared less about what they were saying. The first true love of her life was safe in her grasp. Forget Jughead, all she wanted was to spend time wrapped in the sweet embrace of metal inside of a tornado, and this was the vehicle that could make it happen.

“Pop the hood!” she called to no one in particular.

“Hell no! Meeting first!” F.P. answered gruffly.

Betty reeled around. “Do you want me to do my job or not?” she snarled at him.

Everyone within ten feet held their hands up defensively. 

F.P. cautiously said, “Okay, the girls can give you the Cliff’s notes after.”

“I object,” Cheryl said. Betty waited to see if anyone would point out that she was taking her life into her own hands by denying Betty. “She’s supposed to work on  _ my _ car first!”

Betty grumbled. It was a fair point. “Fine, but I’m not happy about it.”

Being on her back replacing Cheryl’s worn sway bar was downright therapeutic, even if she was anxious to be under the hood of a different car. On the road she’d had her own hotel room, but the walls had always been thin enough to hear the bustle of human activity. Thumps and shouting or the vague din of a far off TV floated through the layers of drywall and cheap plastic wallpaper. Even on her trips to local bookshops, while offering some reprieve from the car, there were still other shoppers ghosting past her as she perused the aisles. But here, with only the slip of grease and the tug of the wrench while she tightened the lug nuts back into place over the new link, she was at ease in silence.

“Hey.” 

She instinctively swung out at the disturbance, catching Jughead across the ankle with the wrench. He went down, hard, onto the epoxied floor clutching at it.

“What the FUCK Cooper?”

“Oh gosh! I’m so sorry, it’s just- I wasn’t expecting anyone out here. Aren’t you supposed to be in the meeting?”

“Motherfucker.” He continued to cuss as he took off his sock and shoe. It was too soon for bruising, but there was more than a fair amount of red swelling. 

“And it’s my bad ankle too. That’s quite an aim you have there,” he grumbled unhappily at her.

She very gently pressed on either side of the contusion. He hissed in a breath but otherwise let her manipulate the skin. “Luckily I didn’t get the actual joint, but above it. How has it been? Since you turned it, I mean.”

Images of him limping toward her across the field after the tornado were still blurry for her. The concussion she’d gotten minutes before that kept them from coming into focus. His elevated foot in the hospital bed before he’d cut her from his life completely were crystal clear.

“It was weak, after the boot came off. Pretty much back at 100% now, or it was.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be storm chasing then, too dangerous for you,” she couldn’t help but bite at him.

He chuckled darkly. “Okay, I deserve that.”

She did her best not to look at him. When he was out of sight it was easy to downplay everything. All those moments she remembered so fondly were tiny and far away. She’d nearly convinced herself that the feelings she had for him weren’t that big. They probably didn’t overwhelm her the way her memory told her they did, or at least that’s what she told herself. When he was close enough to touch, when she could catch the scent of him as she examined his ankle, it all came flooding back. And yes, the feelings really were consuming. 

  
  


“Are you here to give me the keys to the S.I.V.?” She expectantly held out her hand.

“No, we just leave them in there.”

She gaped at him in horror. “You mean anyone could just walk up and steal her?!”

She all but ran over to the driver’ side door as if a stranger was walking up to commit grand theft that very moment. With one hand she popped the lever for the hood and with the other she scooped the keys up and into a pocket in her coveralls. 

Jughead hobbled over to her as she swung the standing lights towards the engine. “Dammit, will you just sit still for a minute so I can apologize to you?”

“No. If you want to apologize, you can do it while I work. We want to be back on the road tomorrow. Remember, my team actually sees tornados, unlike you guys.”

“Yeah, which still scares the absolute shit out of me because last year we watched two people fucking die. I’m sorry that I fired you. I’m sorry that my fleet is running like absolute shit because we don’t have a competent mechanic. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t care about you, because I do. But I’m not sorry that I tried to get you to stop chasing because it’s stupid and it’s dangerous and I can’t help but want you nowhere near any of it! I just think that maybe staying here as our full time mechanic is a better idea.”

“God, you’re such a freaking hypocrite!” She was finally close enough to feel the metal of the S.I.V. and she couldn’t even enjoy it. “I told you. That night in the hotel room, I told you that I was never going to want to do anything but this for the rest of my life, that the storms were a part of me. Yet, somehow, you convinced yourself that I was… what? Some little girl who was just so infatuated with you that she was willing to put up with the rest of the bullshit? Did you really think that if you broke up with me I’d stop wanting to chase? Not that we really broke up because we were never together, according to you, but if that’s what you think of me I’m glad we were never anything more. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m trying to inspect this truck.”

Jughead placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head up toward the heavens like he was praying for strength to deal with her. She rolled her eyes and tried to turn her attention back to the gleaming metal. At least nothing appeared to be too out of order with her. Betty took our a rag to wipe grime off of some hoses for inspection.

“I said that I was sorry, I get that it was shitty.” He said each word slow and deliberate, as if each one took a mighty effort.

“Awesome. Apology accepted. Now, would you like me to do my job and look at this vehicle, or do you only want me touching the convertible since I’m just a Girl Chaser now, Boss?”

His eyes narrowed, “You know for someone who I’ve never dated you sure are acting like an ex-girlfriend.”

Betty slapped down the rag on the floor, “Listen here, asshole-”

“What’s going on out here?!” F.P. boomed across the garage. The meeting had obviously just ended as everyone was pouring back into the garage.

“Jughead is keeping me from looking at the S.I.V.!” Betty tattled. 

He glared back. “I am not! I was just suggesting that if Betty wants to work as a mechanic she should stay here instead of being on the road.”

“And I clearly told you that I don’t want to stay here, I WANT TO CHASE!”

“How can any one person be this STUBBORN?!”

“HOW CAN ANYONE BE THIS BIG OF A JERK?!”

Fred came out to step between them, “Alright, alright, ease up.”

F.P. was fuming. “Boy, shut it. Betty, he’s not lying. We’ve been needing a better mechanic here because we’ve been having to hire out independent contractors and it’s getting expensive. Jughead, the fleet runs better when she’s out with us, no doubt. If you hadn’t  _ fired her in the first place _ we’d be having a better season, so that’s on you.” 

F.P. sighed again and looked between them. “Betty, I’d like to offer you a job with the main team. I was hoping to talk to you about it privately and give you some options. Obviously Jug here took it upon himself to talk to you about the option he’d prefer, but it’s your choice. You can stay with the girls, work here in the shop, or take a spot in the scout truck with the Andrews.” 

“Um, excuse me?” Cheryl huffed, “No. She’s my mechanic. You can’t just take her.”

“She is me and I’ll make my own decisions, Cheryl.”

“You don’t want to ride with us?” Veronica asked sad and quiet.

“Oh, Ronnie, it’s not that I don’t want to ride with you-”

“-it’s that she’s in love with that car.” Fangs finished with a smirk. “Don’t take it personal.”

“I’m not in love with the car!” Everyone stared at her.

Archie cleared his throat. “That was kind of not very convincing.”

“Oh shut up! It’s not about the car, it’s about the storms.”

“Well we’ve caught a ton more storms than they have too.” Toni crossed her arms defensively across her chest.

“Yes, but the convertible is fragile. You can only get so close and because you’re doing photos instead of research we leave some of the systems behind.”

F.P. nodded. “I get it. Once you’ve been in one, you can’t seem to want anything else.”

“Exactly. So no, I don’t want to stay at the shop all season.” She pointedly glared at Jughead. “But I don’t know what else to do.”

“We’re going to do exactly what we just talked about in that meeting you didn’t feel like coming to.” F.P. said smugly. “The Girl Chasers and the Serpents are going to start taking the same routes. We’re going to play up the rivalry idea while helping each other find systems. Betty, I’d like you looking at the whole fleet and riding in whatever vehicle you think you can be the most help in.”

“They could start with us!” Archie said while raising his hand as if he was at school.

“They?” Fred questioned.

“Betty and Veronica! You guys want to travel together, right? Well the truck can take a beating and get in pretty close. What do you say? Would you ladies maybe want to travel with us?”

Betty turned to Veronica who raised an eyebrow back at her. “Okay, we’re in.”

Off to her right, Jughead fumed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in the states we're on lockdown, but remember it's also storm season, and we've already had some major damage done by twisters. Especially in the South where there aren't basements, a communal shelter is still better than nothing. Stay Safe!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is supposed to be happening in real time, but it won't include any coronavirus stuff. I'm all about the escapism.


End file.
